


shotgunning in a powder keg

by foxinschlox



Series: MikoTotsu Week 2015 [5]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Orgasm Denial, Shotgunning, fireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinschlox/pseuds/foxinschlox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for MikoTotsu Week 2015 ♔ Attraction | NSFW : “there's (smoke) in my (lungs) and it's yours”</p>
            </blockquote>





	shotgunning in a powder keg

once in a blue, blue moon they go _out_.

when izumo leaves the kids at home and cheats on his bar with another he met back in college. one with lower standards.  
he gets the crowd around him all wired up with party tricks. the kind that makes shots of 151 ignite like iridescent candles. blowing flame across the rims of the glasses of beautiful patrons. spreading it like a hand of cards out over the counter before folding the aural fire back into his palm.  
the barhands have been trying to step to him all night, and totsuka has been caught up in the excitement of watching them get showed up every time.  
  
until he goes sniffing around for trouble.

he's felt a pair of eyes working him over now and then from the farthest end of the counter - possessed with a richer glow than the cheap plastic string lights above. but the stranger with the hand-rolled cigarette has since retreated back into the dark heart of the dive. and that undressing sort of gaze went with him.

totsuka weaves through the crowd spilling the mai tai in his hands. it's dripping all over them by the time he finds the wide, stained arm of a couch to settle down on.

he's licking the excess up from his wrist when their eyes connect. disconnect.

"oh,"  
totsuka has taken a seat too close to his face.  
"excuse me..."

"d'n mention it," a smoky, absent sigh rolls from his stranger's chest. to be fair he's sunk too deep into the couch, prone to staring into space.

"so do you come here often-n?"  
something questionably slick on the floor makes totsuka slip when he tries leaning back on the arm.

"i fucking hope not."

glass shatters from somewhere. there's a round of applause around tonight's entertainment.  
totsuka gathers himself together, tucking blond hair behind his ear on the pierced side, and adds his own clapping to the swell of noise.

"you came in with him. do you do tricks too?"  
totsuka smiles _that_ way. irresistible. but so only a corner of it's visible to his target.

"tch. that kid's stuff?"

totsuka can't help it. he's all ruffled with excitement,  
"show me something."

his dark, red stranger shoves a hand down into the metal trough of ice behind the couch and fishes out a tall can.  
"hold it."

totsuka does as he's told, keeping it up over his head.

the red king engulfs his forearm in a blaze that roars with exothermic furor. the blast lights up their corner of the bar seeping otherworldly aura.

"you're not going to roast it are you?" totsuka teases.

"you got no idea what i'm capable of," mikoto suoh is too careless with that voice -- savage in depth without any effort,  
"just don't get nervous 'nd it won't explode."

"i won't get nervous."

their eye contact stays.  
but the searing heat of two fingers make puncturing the bottom of the can easy. his pressure on it is still firm. it sizzles, alcohol fumes and liquid reacting to flame. the longer he holds totsuka's gaze the more it tones down, just enough for the job. fingers twist into it to make the drip heavier. and when he pulls out the stream of amber liquid spills down, and he catches it with his mouth.

totsuka is entranced by the work of his tongue lapping beneath the light seal of his lips. with harder sucking the can goes empty in seconds.

"practical _and_ impressive."  
totsuka wonders if it's the beer running sloppily down the corner of mikoto's mouth leaving him consumed with lust or what.

"i don't know how you're going to top that one."

"what am i here to entertain you all night long?"  
he's gruff about it but mikoto catches on to the challenge.  
there _is_ something else. it starts with another cigarette.

totsuka's ordered to slip down beside him and close his eyes. keep 'em closed. but the red king sort of… gets lost for a bit and zones out at the noise and the movement all around. there's an instinctive stir in his gut telling him to _hurry the fuck up already_. sensory overload comes in degrees for mikoto; he's got to clear his mind. smoking to himself and letting totsuka cozy up to him. not minding the wait at all. soft lips angled just right where the brat rests into the crook of his arm. _come_ ** _on_** _._

totsuka can't help peeking one eye open when mikoto takes a longer hit than usual and moves in. anticipating, his mouth goes wet, tips open at the urging of another. rough fingertips guide under his chin. the smoke gets pressurized in the sideways seal of their lips, filling his throat before it reaches down in hot exhale to his lungs. each time. and each time he kisses the stars and falls back down.  
nevermind the watering in his eyes. everything in the way he presses, moves, pulls tight in a dizzied haze begs to be filled. till he's more mikoto's smoke than himself. when totsuka blows it all out, coughing just a bit, there's still a firm hand holding his face.

and he whines as the cigarette's put out in its tray.

"sorry brat, i'm all out've tricks."

it sounds like the lie it is.

___゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･ﾟ゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ･*･゜ﾟ_ _ _

_he looks deadly with his hair down._

here you don't know him. but it's hard to convince your body. with its blossoming heat, asking his flames to come out and play with you.

they're only this gentle with you, under your spell, and lick around your middle at his undressing touches. are they asking yours to come out too?

hidden against the wall beneath the stairs with footsteps banging away above head,  
you lay a hand on his neck to stroke him like a tamed beast. but feel his pulse ignite your aura. you act surprised and try to shake it off lightly.

"how strange, it's contagious..."

but he kisses and kisses up your infected wrist, to the palm, up to suck off the flame that's dripping from your fingers.

 

* * *

 

_"we're friends right?"_

was it in this same dive bar he'd asked that years ago? visiting izumo after an evening class. awkward fidgeting on some sticky barstool, flanked by strangers.

" _i mean, i thought i had friends once. but then I found out they really weren't. so- if you ever don't want me around anymore, you can tell me._ "

it could've been. might as well have been.

_"i'm way smarter than i used to be."_

.….. car keys switch hands in a concealed motion on their way out. who knows how long they've been here, what year it is.…..

___  
___

* * *

 

 

the fucking music's turned up too loud. but something's got to mask the sound.  
at least the vibrations feel good through the seats. through his lithe body - everything goes through him. sometimes it feels like you do too.  
thanks to the blackout windows.

"feel that, huh?"  
hips angle the thrust like you're trying to push out against his soft belly from inside.

"yes~ _YES_ _, **mmm YES!"**_

totsuka claws into the backseat headrest he's got locked in an embrace. hips push back to meet yours in rhythm. the sounds he's been teasing you with heighten into voiceless cries the harder he begs you to ravage his ass. he's been putting it on you all night; so this is what he gets. pause the heavy thrusts just to watch him spasm around the girth of your cock swollen into him, stretching him to his tight, pinkened limit. only to hear how _good_ you are, how massive and hard… you weren't raised not to stare. it's like making love to a piece of art, why wouldn't you?

"are you going to take me home with you?"

totsuka's feverish whimper feels nice to your one-handed, stroking grip on his throat. it’s slick with sweat. he swallows deliberately. he knows what he's doing. the way he's hanging off the back seat, curved into you, on his knees.

"wouldn't you like that - a hard fuck in a proper bed, like a good boy," a hand squeezes the flesh of his thigh to emphasize each kiss. pleasured chirps are all your lips will allow out of him now. "want me to keep you? make you all mine?"

it causes him to shiver down, how tender you can be. breaking the illusion. he is your heart, after all. no matter how violently your hips work to mate into his slender body.  
too bad you're not as saintly as totsuka tatara. he has fits whenever your palm wraps around his cock tight as hell but won't move. makes the sweetest struggling noises writhing for the friction he can't have.  
totsuka is a free spirit, after all.

so now that you're the bad guy you figure you can only go worse. the silver charm jingles around his neck each time you slam into him, and all the clenching and squeezing his insides do out of desperation backfires in the end.

how cruel.  
you bust inside him on a shudder like there's recoil from a gunshot running through you.

"king.... that wasn't fair,"  
the shaky voice and teary eyes do nothing for you in the guilt department. an unceremonious grunt marks your pulling out, stripping off the condom. the part of totsuka that forgives you for everything is in battle with his hedonistic side- that would just as soon ride the two fingers you shove back into him to release.  
excuse you for liking to see it every once in a while.  
  
even as you're changing positions to get under him with your back to the seat he's huffing softly and trying to thrust deeper into your palm. breathing hot over his balls and kissing the base just seems to make it worse? the headrest must be taking a real strangling above. too bad about the leather.

his rosy tip is _very_ cross with you, peeking through the wrap of your fist and leaking all over. and twitches, forgiving, when it fills your mouth. the sound he makes is nothing like himself. where his thighs meet his ass your hands make prints squeezing and forcing him in and out.  
lips tight around his bottle, swig after swig you drink him deeper down your throat. totsuka is the liquor of forgetting. and if you put aside your history, the false sense of security he does you... daily, the danger you put him in... daily,

his chain around your neck,

sometimes you can fuck him like a stranger in the back seat of your best friend's car. he comes harder for you tonight than you've felt him in a long time; a real momentary death, warm in your mouth, down into your loving arms.  
  
“oh _mikoto_ ”

once in a blue, blue moon you try to forget who you are.  
(not that he’ll ever let you)


End file.
